


Pull you to Shore

by spun809



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comforting Dean, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Smut, Sweet Sex, depressed reader, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 11:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10411038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spun809/pseuds/spun809
Summary: Based of an anon request on Tumblr, reader is depressed and starts to pull away from Dean. He does his best to comfort her.





	

Trying to pull yourself out of bed. The coldness of the spring air hit you, it didn’t seem possible that although the bunker lacked any sort of windows, that the chilly dampness could manage to get in. As soon as your toes hit the concrete floors, you drew your legs back up and under the covers. Noticing that they lacked the slightly spicy aroma of Dean’s cologne. A tear traced along the edge of your nose but you couldn’t be bothered to wipe it away. Knowing that it was pointless when more were going to quickly follow. You missed him, the worst was knowing it was your own fault you were missing him, you had pushed him away. 

You measured time in days after Dean, today was 7 D.A.D. and it had been eating you away inside. Not wanting to face him as the misery threatened to engulf you and sure to have him recognizing all of your flaws you started to come up with a plan. You knew it was for the best to get some distance quickly, if he saw you at your worst he would have left you and that was more than you could bear. So you had gathered your essentials out of the bedroom you shared and moved into a room at the far end of the giant compound, since you couldn’t actually leave, the Winchesters needed you on retainer but you could at least give him some distance. 

As you shoved some pajamas into your dirty fraying backpack, you heard the door open. 

“What are you doing?” His tone was light and airy, clearly unaware of the fact that you could feel the sinking pit of depression dragging you under, and as he came up behind you he wrapped his hands around your waist. 

“Dean I think I need some time on my own.” 

“Hey,” he spun you around holding you at arms length, “talk to me.” 

His eyes were pleading but there was no malice or anger, he was worried, but your resolve didn’t waver. There was no way to tell him that you were depressed that sometimes you just were crushed by the blackness and despair and that nothing and no one could help you. Dean wanted to save everyone and you knew he wouldn’t understand. He would ultimately be better off without you around, you knew that people always figured that out eventually, he wasn’t any exception. 

Shaking him off you turned back to packing, and when you finished you slung the backpack over your shoulder, turning behind you as you walked out of the room, “I’ll be near the library, I’ll still be here ok?” 

You didn’t wait for a reply. Too scared that if you talked to him, your resolve to walk out would crack, and then in the end it would be worse for both of you. This was the noble thing to do, save the two of you from the inevitable hurt, get it over quick and you figured maybe he wouldn’t even have time to miss you. 

In the last week you had barely crawled out of bed, you hadn’t showered in so many days you couldn’t even recall the last time you had stood under the spray of water, you had gone to the kitchen a few times to try and choke down some dry cereal but that was about it. It seemed totally pointless, all you did was lay there going over all of your flaws, every mistake that you had made, and above all listing out the reasons why you weren’t good enough for Dean. 

There was the fact that you weren’t as good of a hunter, more than anything you were a hindrance to getting the job done, you were a liability. 

Then you added that you were moody, you couldn’t be a support to a man you loved, because you had your own stuff going on. He deserved better, someone who could help him and not drag him down. 

Also he looked like a model, you were nothing more than average, you had seen the type of girls who flirted with him, and he could definitely find someone prettier and probably smarter. 

With each new tick on your list you felt worse, you stopped even going out for food, it no longer mattered. Ever since you curled back up in bed you had been gazing up at the ceiling noticing just how gray it was, when you heard a dull tapping on your door. It was pretty quiet but you had trained your ears in all the years spent hunting and so you noticed the slightest bump. 

“Baby?” 

You groaned it was Dean. You weren’t even sure what you were going to try and say because you didn’t have the energy to come up with a good lie for what was going on. Instead you stayed silent, praying he would just leave. The fact was that it had taken a week before he even tried to talk to you, so it was probably just some help he needed for case, maybe you were needed for bait or something. It was obvious he didn’t care. 

As the door cracked open you saw a green eye peering into your room. Clearly he was not going to leave, so you rolled over to face the opposite wall trying to act like you were sleeping. 

“Please will you talk to me?” His voice was dripping with concern, “I know your awake.” 

Your rouse was up, so you rolled over, he was standing right at the edge of the bed looking down at you. “I don’t have anything to say.” 

“Fine. Then listen.” He sat down next to where you were laying, “I know you’re hurting.” 

You started to interrupt because you didn’t want this, but he held up his hand and you hushed yourself. 

“I know that you get depressed sometimes, and I just want you to know that I am here for you. Not to tell you that everything is going to be perfect, but that even when it is hard and you feel you can’t go on, I will carry you. You aren’t alone.” 

“Why did it take you a week to notice I was even gone then.” You regretted it as soon as you said it, but it was too hard to stop yourself. You felt pissed at the world and he was part of it. 

He grabbed your chin lightly, holding you still so you were facing him, forced to look into his eyes as he spoke, “I want to respect you, when you say you need space or time, love isn’t about forcing someone to do what you want them to, it is trying to give them what they need to be happy.” 

Tears fell before you could even stop them, and he was quickly beside you wiping them away. He kissed your face where the salty tracks were, completely oblivious to the fact that you were gross and your face was probably puffy and red from crying, and then you were wrapping your arms around him. You had missed him so much and just knowing he still was here even when you pushed him away so hard was proof he really would help you. 

Kissing him was easy, you just enjoyed how perfect he felt, as his full lips moved against your own. It was natural the way you fit with him, how even when you couldn’t speak he knew when to speed things up, like how as you sat up slightly he knew it was the cue to start undressing you, and when to slow down, like when you were naked and vulnerable he smoothed his fingers against every part of your skin gently making you feel safe. 

“I love you,” his kissed along the curve of your neck, “I hope this is the last day that I ever had to spend away from you.” 

When he started sucking on your earlobe you knew you were a goner, “it’s a deal,” you said. 

You were so lost in how you felt being intertwined with his body, it didn’t even leave space for the darkness, the light in his eyes seemed to fill its place. Love didn’t fix your depression but you allowed yourself to get lost in the sensations of his body, the soft bites and trace of his tongue down your stomach to the v in between your legs. The soft slide of his lips across your folds. The tingling waves of pleasure that crested when he latched on to your clit. 

Your fingers grabbed at his short hair for purchase, you needed to hang on to him to avoid being completely swept up in the sensation. 

After you calmed and he climbed up your side you felt for his hardness, his dick was at full attention and you loved that it didn’t take a face full of makeup or sexy lingerie to keep him interested. Just him loving you was enough, and you brought your hand up to your mouth and licked it so you could pump him without too much friction. 

His eyes fell shut and he was panting a little at the slow build up, when he was leaking and fully ready you straddled his hips and brought him to your entrance. You were still too out of it to really put on a show, focusing on the feeling of him inside of you as you slowly ground against him. 

His hands found your waist helping guide your movements, taking the strain out from your thighs were they were burning from the week of inactivity. The callouses of his fingers scraped perfectly against your delicate skin, and there was something about just the touch of you that had you gasping, desperate for more. 

“Dean, it feels so good.” 

“It’s better than good,” his voice was rough with the strain of trying to keep the fun times rolling. 

It had you letting out a soft laugh, it felt a strange the smile stretching your face after days of not even quirking up your lips, and just the thought that you had someone who could even make you smile had you tipping over the edge again. Dean wasn’t far behind, and after you came down you noticed that he had moved you beside him and was curled around you. 

You figured in a couple of hours you could grab your backpack and go with Dean back to his, your, room. For now though it felt good just to relax with him breathing against your hair. To have the smell of him wrapped around you again. Inside you could still feel that sadness but it was truly better now, because you knew that the next time you felt a wave threatening to overcome you, Dean was going to be there to help you make it to the shore.


End file.
